Batman: Prelude- Chapter One
by fullmoonfang
Summary: Bruce Wayne wasnt always Batman. Jim Gordon wasn't always Commissioner. This is the story of how they became the iconic characters we know and love today.
1. chapter 1

The hustle and bustle of the Gotham City police department was a constant. Especially during late night hours, when crime runs rampant. But for James Gordon, GCPD was a reminder of how different Gotham City is from anywhere else he's worked.

Gordon sipped coffee from his mug as he shifted through paperwork. His desk was covered in files, and his badge rested next to a picture of his daughter. Gordon felt a hand on his shoulder, one with a firm grip. Gordon turns around to see Commissioner O'Hara with a grave look on his face.

"Gordon, can I see you in my office? I have something to discuss with you." O'Hara asked.

"Sure, Chief. Give me five minutes." Gordon responded.

"No, this is urgent I need you now."

Gordon rose up from the chair and sighed, rubbing his temple and adjusting his glasses. He grabbed his badge and strapped his gun into his holster. He followed O'Hara into his office and sat down in front of the desk.

O'Hara's office was one to desire. Covered in awards and accolades, O'Hara was a cop who any police force would love to have. O'Hara's perfect gray hair and his goatee mirrored Gordon's disheveled graying red hair and pale skin. O'Hara removed his suit jacket and sat down in his large black leather chair. He folded his hands and looked Gordon directly in the eye.

"Gordon, I'm gonna be straight with you. I need you to call off the Falcone investigation." O'Hara said. Gordon immediately shot O'Hara a face of disdain.

"Drop the case? I don't know if you've noticed, since you're always in your little golden perch, but we've lost THREE officers connected to this case!" Gordon yelled.

O'Hara slams his fist on the desk, revealing his true anger. He removes his spectacles and tucks then in his shirt pocket.

"Goddammit, Gordon! Listen to me!! This case is no good! Do you wanna end up like Frank Klein? Anna Brooks? Randy Isabella?" O'Hara questioned. "This case is a dead end, for everyone involved."

Gordon wanted to fight O'Hara. His fists were clenched and his face matched his hair color. He couldn't stand O'Hara's dismissive tone towards the case he's worked so hard on. Countless nights spent, ignoring his daughter, just to bust Falcone and end his reign over Gotham. But now, all that seemed like a fever dream.

Gordon got up from his seat and walked towards the office door. He glanced back at O'Hara and looked into his eyes. He couldn't read him. Despite all his efforts, Gordon couldn't read O'Hara. He opened the door and re-entered the precinct with the previous argument lingering on his mind.

Bruce Wayne jolted up from his bed, covered in sweat. He reached for his nightstand and grabbed a glass of water. The cold glass made his warm fingertips tingle as he gulped down the water. He wiped his mouth with a towel and rose out of bed.

Bruce stepped in the shower, washing away the nightmares. Another dream about his parents crept its way into his head, waking Bruce from his sleep. Bruce hated dreaming about his parents, especially on the eve of their death anniversary.

Alfred entered Bruce's room, placing a tray of medication on his night stand. He lifted Bruce's sheets and began to change them. Alfred's hands worked fast, like a medic on a battlefield, as he placed the new spread on Bruce's double-king sized bed. Bruce turned off the shower and dried himself off, staring at the scars of his past.

Manila, Nanda Parbat, France, Japan, and Hong Kong. All the scars had history behind them. Meaning. Bruce walked towards his nightstand and consumed his medicine. The pills sliding to the back of his throat reminded him of all the other sleepless nights.

Bruce walked towards the fireplace in the library. He watched as the fire smoldered, and thought about his life leading up to this point. For too long, Gotham had been consumed by corruption. Bruce knew it was his calling to eradicate the scum of the city. Soon, Gotham would be cleansed...


	2. Emergence

**Six Weeks Ago**

Alfred Pennyworth hated his life. After years of serving the British Armed Forces, he became a butler. Serving family after family. That was, until he was hired by Thomas Wayne. But ever since the Wayne's death and Bruce's disappearance, his life hadn't been the same.

Alfred heard a knock on the large doors of Wayne Manor. He dropped his duster and scurried towards the door, shotgun in hand. Wayne Manor was private property, and it was Alfred's job to protect it.

Alfred opened the door and aimed his weapon at the trespasser. Standing at the door was a tall man, with shaggy black hair and a scraggly beard. Wearing what seemed to be the robes of a martial artist. His piercing blue eyes struck Alfred, causing him to lower his weapon. There was a familiarity in those eyes.

"M-Master Bruce? Is that you?" Alfred asked, still bracing himself.

"Yes, Alfred. It's me. Sorry for the disappearing act." Bruce responded. He began to wobble and Alfred grabbed his arm and tossed it over his back, carrying Bruce inside.

After getting Bruce some clean clothes and a nice shave, Alfred sat him down near the fireplace to rest. The opening in Bruce's shirt revealed nasty looking scars, some of which looked fairly fresh. Alfred placed a cup of Chamomile Tea next to Bruce and sat in the chair across from him.

"Eight years, Master Bruce. What was so important that you had to disappear for that long? I haven't seen you since your teenage years, and now you sit in front of me almost a fully grown adult. Why were you gone so long?" Alfred asked, a look of confusion accompanying his questions.

"I just needed some time away from everything. Time to find myself. I couldn't stand living in Gotham anymore, so the first chance I got, I left. But it wasn't because of the city, it's the people in this city. The corruption, I've witnessed it first hand. Carmine Falcone, Albert Maroni, Rupert Thorne, just some of the men who have corrupted Gotham to its core. I needed to discover what my place was in all this." Bruce responded.

Alfred sat with his hands folded. He stared Bruce right in the eye the entire conversation, just to see what Bruce's true intentions were. But all he could read from Bruce was hatred; hatred and anger. Bruce had not truly recovered from his parents murder. He still had lingering contempt in his heart.

Bruce rose up from the seat, despite his injuries. He picked up his cane and walked towards the bust of his father. He stared at the bust, before shedding a tear. He closed his robe and began to walk towards his room, leaving Alfred alone with his thoughts.

 **Current Day**

Lieutenant Jim Gordon hit the brakes on his car as he arrived at the crime scene. One of Albert Maroni's assassins had been tracked to a location south of The Narrows. Couped up in an abandoned building hiding from cops. But, after making a phone call from a nearby phone booth, the cops were able to narrow down his location. Jim pulled out the megaphone from his passenger seat and began to speak to the assassin.

"Mr. Blake! GCPD! We have you surrounded. Don't try anything." Gordon yelled.

Next to Gordon, the leader of the SWAT team began to prep his team for infiltration. Gordon took off his trench coat and cocked his handgun.

"Gordon, where the hell do you think your going?" The SWAT Captain asked.

"I'm going in. This was my case, I'm gonna bust this asshole." Gordon said.

Gordon's partner, Kate Ramirez, walked up next to him. She loaded her shotgun and strapped on her bulletproof vest.

"I'm going with you, partner." Kate said.

The SWAT Captain sent in his men, with Gordon and Ramirez in tow. They made it up two flights of stairs and made it to the third floor. They breached the apartment door and tossed in a tear gas grenade. Three SWAT officers entered the room, armed with AR-15 rifles and combat knives. The green hue of their night vision goggles shined through the tear gas. But when the gas cleared, the assassin wasn't there.

Gordon spotted a box sitting in the corner of the room. He opened it to find a ticking bomb with C4 and dynamite strapped to it. He only had 35 seconds to get everyone out.

"EVERYBODY OUT NOW!! BOMB!!" Gordon screamed.

The squadron rushed down the stairs and made it to the street in time. The building exploded, burning all evidence of the assassin and his involvement with Maroni. Gordon felt his cellphone vibrate. An unknown number was calling him.

"Who is this?" Gordon asked.

"Hello, James. My name is Albert Maroni. You might know me as Crazy Al. I heard about your involvement investigating the Gotham underworld. Stop. You won't like what you find down that rabbit hole, buddy." Maroni spoke. "Just quit while you're ahead, and you won't have to worry about you or your family's safety. But, if you continue to investigate, I can't promise anything."

Gordon felt his rage building up. He hadn't felt that angry since his argument with O'Hara a couple days ago.

"Now you listen her-" Gordon began. Maroni ended the call, his stance made clear.

A pit opened up in Gordon's stomach. Had he entered a world he wasn't ready for? Was he in too deep? What about Barbara? If she gets hurt, Maria would never forgive him. Gordon forced his negative thoughts into the back of his mind. He would find a way to take down Maroni, and Rupert Thorne, and Carmine Falcone, and any other criminal who would endanger Gotham City.

Gordon remembered why he came here. Why he wore his badge. To protect and serve. By any means necessary...


End file.
